Giftfic Exchange: Thundercats
by Mooncloudpanther
Summary: My fanfiction gifts to my fellow lovely authors. "Sunda is a motherhen. So, when Sundara gets sick (because he insisted they train in the rain), he takes it upon himself to be a nurse maid. Joy of joys."
1. Motherhen - WAR-Operative

"Sunda is a motherhen. So, when Sundara gets sick (because he insisted they train in the rain), he takes it upon himself to be a nurse maid. Joy of joys."

I was going to stick to _one_ of the prompts I chose, but I couldn't seem to write anything satisfying. So, I made my own: "During the story, a character gets sick. In the story, there is a bowl of soup."

* * *

><p>Sunda gently grabbed Sundara by the shoulders and turned her around, despite her protest that she was 'just fine'. The deep circles under her bloodshot eyes and the way she kept sniffling every few moments contradicted that statement. The waist-length braid her pale blonde mane, with black speckles that blurred into solidarity, was kept in was messy, which was completely unlike her.<p>

The other leopard, with more gray fur than his tawny coloring, struggled to get out of his firm grasp, hissing. "I'm _fine,_ Sunda! It's just a little cold."

"I really don't care whether you think you're fine or not, Sundara," he told her, rolling his eyes. "Your sick and you're not going on duty today. Jaga would - and _will_ - agree with me."

He could practically hear her brooding as she stopped fighting and let him push her towards the infirmary.

"...such a motherhen," she was muttering.

Sunda's ear flicked, "I can hear you."

When Sundara didn't respond or continue her mutterings, he took that as a sign of victory. A very short-lived victory when, not even a full minute later, she stopped walking all together. "_Sundara._" he said pointedly to the stubborn she-cat.

"I'm not _that _sick!" she responded indignantly.

Sunda, brought a paw up to pinch the bridge of his nose, whilst keeping his other firmly clasped on her shoulder so she couldn't try and run for it. "Jaga _will_ agree with me," he repeated. "It would better for you not to go on duty today, since you got sick from training in the _rain_ yesterday. And if that means I tie you to a bed, then so be it."

"Kinky," she responded wryly, "but it was _your_ fault I was training in the rain."

"Tell me something I don't know, Sundara." he grit out in annoyance, trying to give her another shove forward. He didn't want to shove her too hard because, well, she had a petite frame. But if _shoving_ her was it took to get her in motion again, then he would shove her.

"Oh, I get it. This is you feeling bad that I got sick because of you." Sundara responded, shoving back against his paw. She refused to budge. Until she sneezed, her head snapping forward and then back with the force. "Ugh..."

"Yeah, you're not going on duty today if you're sneezing like that."

She grumbled inaudibly to herself, before sighing, "Fiiine. You win."

"Then could you walk forward?"

Sundara grumbled again, but let him steer her into the infirmary. She took her robes off without a fight, stripping down to her clothes before she flopped down on a bed.

Sunda neatly folded her robe and set it on the small bedside stand, soon followed by her mask, which she offered up to him, once more, without a fight. Quite the achievement for the sunda clouded leopard who was slowly crawling under the infirmary bed's blankets. "Is there anything I can get you?" he asked, even though he'd already made a list of things to procure before he'd even grabbed her shoulders and dragged her away from the other clerics... who had made several 'lover's' remarks that he doubted Sundara had heard.

Hot, steamy soup was at the top of his priorities. For both of them, since neither of them had yet eaten.

"I'm hungry," Sundara informed him helpfully from where she lay sprawled on her stomach. "These blankets are too hot," she complained, tossing the closest corner towards her feet.

Sunda sat down in a chair next to her bed. "Soup and lighter blankets, check." he remarked. "Here."

She looked at him, pouting, as he reached out for her braid. "I could bring a brush with me and redo this for you," he offered, pulling the hair tie out. He thread his claws through the weave, gently coercing it apart until her long mane was loose and gathered together and pushed over her far shoulder. With her mane out of the way, Sunda could see the start of her two long, vertical bar-like stripes on the back of her neck, the very ends of which he could make out just peeking from under her short-cut shirt.

"Sure."

It was also easier for him to see, with her mane out of the way, the attractive curve of her back, the curvature and dip of her spine.

"Then I'll be back. Don't you even try and run off." Sunda warned her, standing.

She hummed agreement, hugging her pillow.

* * *

><p>Clerics were nothing if not talented.<p>

Being fast and patient didn't make a cleric - but they were key principals. Balance of body, and supposedly mind, were elements of being a Guardian of the Crown as well.

If balance included blankets tossed over one shoulder, two bowls of soup tucked against his side and front with his left arm, and a brush in one paw with out having to slow his pace, then Sunda was fairly certain he had that element done and mastered. Well, the 'of body' half of balance.

If wanting to curl up next to a very bored and unintentionally attractively-posed Sundara meant he would never be balanced of mind, he was surprisingly fine with that.

She was staring at the wall with a bored pout, jaw resting on her folded arms. It seemed she had since gotten sick of the thick blankets and kicked them off of the bed and into a tangled mess on the floor, and had also stripped down to her... lighter clothing. Presently, she was in a small white top and black shorts, but hadn't bothered to remove her bracers or footwear.

Sunda announced his presence with a maybe-too-cheery, "I'm back!"

She started slightly and sat up on her elbows, craning her head to look at him. "Is that-?"

"Your favorite? Yes," he supplied, stooping to offer the bowl to her as she sat up. She accepted, taking the bowl that had been tucked in by his elbow, with a nod and a 'thank you'. "You're welcome," he replied, setting his own bowl down and shrugging her new blankets off his shoulder and onto the foot of her bed. "Now, turn around so I can brush your mane."

"You're so bossy," she muttered, but complied regardless. She sat with her legs criss-crossed in front of her, close to the edge of the bed, sipping the broth from her soup. Sunda pulled his seat forward before sitting with a sigh.

"I wouldn't be so bossy if you weren't so difficult," he finally grinned, pulling her mane over her bare-shoulders and mostly exposed-and-striped back.

She didn't respond to that, instead opting to give a quiet purr as he slid the brush through her tresses.

He continued to pull the bristles through her mane, her purr progressively becoming louder as he did so. More than once, he had to bite back a remark about 'is this so bad?' or 'enjoying yourself?' - or something else that would most likely and equally terminate the she-cat's purring. And, frankly, Sunda preferred her purring than being pointedly silent. By a lot.

"Do you want me to braid it again?" he asked, setting the brush down.

Sundara shrugged. "If you want to," she answered, still purring. He heard her fork - she didn't like spoons when eating soup - clink against the ceramic bowl as she lowered it. "But you should probably eat." she commented, twisting around. "You know, before your soup goes cold."

Sunda looked between her and his soup. "I don't mind."

"Aren't you a hypocrite," she deadpanned. This time, she did stop purring. "'Here, eat this soup while I brush your mane, because I haven't eaten yet either - but that doesn't matter because I'm Sunda'." she mocked, turning back around with a stern frown.

His ear twitched in irritation. "I said I don't mind if it goes cold, not that I wouldn't eat it!"

She simply raised her bowl again and clinked her fork against it as she scooped noodles.

Sunda flared his nostrils. "You're frustrating, you know that?" he asked, parting her mane into three sections.

"And you aren't." she returned in a flat voice.

"I _never_ said that." he protested. "Jeez, I'm just trying to be _nice_."

"...you could be less hypocritical."

Sunda finished twisting her mane into a braid, sighing heavily. Then, without much thought, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her mid-section. "I'll try." he promised, tightening his grip and nuzzling her cheek.

Sundara froze momentarily, before leaning back against his chest with a barely audible purr.

A minute passed and she informed him, "You're really warm."

"Mmhmm," he hummed against her fur.

"But this isn't as comfortable as it could be." Sundara continued, turning her head.

Surprised at her not-so-subtle hint, Sunda opened his eyes and leaned away to view her better. Through the pale fur lining her features, he could see red blush.

Then he grinned, "Do I get to eat first?"

"You should have eaten sooner," she reprimanded playfully, wiggling out of his hold. "Put my bowl on the table, please?" She offered him the mostly-emptied bowl, and he grinned.

He accepted the ceramic dish, and traded it for his own, setting it on the table carefully, and began to eat. Sundara untangled the light blankets and began to settle under them, scooted closer to the wall and leaving a suggesting space open. For him.

Sunda smiled more broadly and turned his attention to his bowl of soup.

When he set it down on the table, done with it for the time being, and curled up next to her, he was surprisingly _happy._ Happier than he had been in a long time.

It was like getting a little piece of dysfunctional family back.

* * *

><p>Happy New Year! I hope you liked it WAR ^_^<p> 


	2. Twinless Twin - Frankannestein

"The story ends in the ruins of an ancient building. During the story, there is an explosion. A character will prepare for a birthday, and they aren't happy with it. During the story, a character is robbed." - Mooncloudpanther

Angst. Twinless twin angst.

Felline © Frankannestein; Panthro & Thundercats © Warnerbros.

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><p>Felline was okay when she woke up, at first.<p>

The depression came to her as she woke up more thoroughly and became more aware of the day it was.

It was... it was... - she was nineteen. _Felline_ was nineteen but... Lepra wasn't here. The single, sad and crushing fact, destroyed any chance for her to have a good mood. She operated without really thinking, didn't get offended at Tygra's snide remarks about his brother; she moved and worked like a machine put on an 'auto' function.

When she was told that they needed to pack up camp, she folded up her tent and rolled up her bedroll without so much as a word.

When asked what was wrong, she didn't answer. Her tail continued to drag behind her and her ears hardly twitched in the direction of whoever was speaking.

There was a question that was constantly resounding in her mind:

_Is every year without Lepra going to feel like this?_

Felline was numb and emotionally _crushed._ She felt like she could curl up in a corner and cry, except she... couldn't. It was a battle of abstract and contradicting feelings. One thing she knew for certain was that she did not want to be around the others while she was so conflicted.

Sure, she had always felt that she had been living in Lepra's shadow. That she had always been second best and least wanted - the least _loved_ - among the two, but at least she had always _had Lepra._

Memories of the last time she really saw her sister played in her head. The time she dived into the fountain for the coin - which she was now absently brushing the surface of with her thumb - and she had politely declined that tom's offer for dinner because 'if she goes, I go. We're twins, after all. We do everything together.' - _except turn nineteen, apparently,_ she thought bitterly.

Another time, after Felline had found out that Lepra was engaged, while they were at the celebration party. It was a once-warm but now void memory, of Bastien (surprisingly). Specifically, of when she gave him her favor; a kiss. Blankly, she wondered what could have become of that relationship, but she just couldn't picture it.

The cat she had been then, and the cat she was now were just so vastly different. She couldn't fit her life back in the mundane little square had once been. Not for her dead sister's memory - not that Lepra would want her to anyway... right? - and certainly not for her father. She'd grown too much to be scared of disappointing him anymore.

It wasn't until black smoke was filling the little cubbie she had tucked herself into that she snapped out of her reverie. She burst out of the hidden-away corner coughing, and ran out of the Thundertank.

The others were coughing as well, but not quite as hard.

When Panthro spotted her, he twisted his lips. "You okay there, kid?"

"I'm not a kid," she retorted, waving smoke away from her face as she joined them at the base of the Thundertank's ramp. "I thought she was fixed!" With that, she pointed back at the tank over her shoulder.

Panthro's expression remained straight as he responded, "Kit and Kat found smoke pellets."

The two innocent-appearing mischief-makers batted their eyes shyly. Felline frowned at them.

He snorted, "What were you doing anyway?"

Felline didn't answer him, instead folding her arms over her chest. Defensively, she asked, "Does it matter?"

Panthro slightly raised a brow, but conceded gruffly, "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."

"Good, because I don't want to talk about it."

The gods must have loved irony. She didn't want to talk about it, but it felt good to express it.

Tygra and Cheetara were seated side-by-side, _of course,_ closer than they necessarily had to be. Lion-O was a good distance away.

The twins were running around the fire with Felline's gunblade, which they had stolen an hour ago, and an irritated Felline had just stomped off. Panthro had followed after her, a few minutes later, and gruffly suggested they get firewood.

Yeah, sure.

She grabbed the wood and stacked as much of it as she could in Panthro's arms - which, for the record, was a lot. More than she could have carried in three trips.

Now, they were seated away from the rest of the group, and Felline was blurting every painful thing that came to mind about being a twinless twin. Specifically, about how being a twinless twin for their first birthday felt. It hurt and she just wanted her sister back. And just pouring out her inner agonies was making her feel better.

He was a surprisingly amazing listener. He nodded and kept his attention fixed on her, his lips occasionally twisting. When she confessed how much it hurt, he pat her on the back and rumbled wistfully, "It'll always hurt. The loss of a sibling never goes away." And then he stood. "Come on. They're being obnoxious." He gestured to the rest of the group as a whole, and she meekly agreed, accepting his paw for assistance. He pulled her to her feet and, while she dusted herself off, he snatched the gunblade from the kittens as they ran by.

"Hey!" they exclaimed in surprise.

"Go bother Lion-O," Panthro ordered in a no-nonsense voice.

They hesitated a moment, sharing a surprised and confused look, before shrugging and moving away from the duo.

"They were fine." Felline protested. Honestly, seeing them together and having fun had actually made her happy. If it hadn't come at her own expense that would have been even better.

It was like living vicariously, but not.

Panthro snorted skeptically, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he told her, "Come on."

* * *

><p>"Grune and I took shelter here once," he commented.<p>

It was a ruined building. It was ancient and had seemingly been abandoned to the elements. A tree had grown just next to it, its trunk imposing on the building. Rampant vegetation had climbed the exterior and interior walls, lonely little white flowers seemingly glowing in the moonlight. A lush fern had grown scenically beside the door

It was surreal and beautiful. But terribly solitary.

"We wondered about what it had been before. I always thought it was some sort of... shrine." He explained, sighing. She nodded and walked towards it. She felt the spongey moss under her paws and gave a sad smile. Lepra might have loved seeing something like this.

"I'll stay out here and give you some time alone." he announced.

Felline didn't respond, but rather slipped past the broken door. There were more of the lonely flowers inside, from the ceiling and on the walls, and there was spongey moss underfoot. The floor was uneven with uphevels caused by the roots of the very tree that had grown into one of its walls.

Nothing appeared to be living in the building, save for a few meece that chittered and squeaked in protest at her presence, but then scurried into little burrows in the wall.

She took the details of the lit-by-glowing-flowers room with an impassive expression and feeling.

Felline sat down on a root, heaving a heavy sigh.

She pulled the coin out again, and gazed at it sadly.

_"What on Third Earth were you doing?" Lepra was fussing._

_Lepra almost sobbed, "You don't need to steal someone else's wish. That's what you're doing right now, you know. Stealing someone's wish."_

"It's not just any coin," she murmured. "It was new minted this summer..."

Her lips twitched upwards. "Besides, it's my good luck coin." A thought occured to her, sparking curiosity. She stood and slipped back outside. Panthro was deligently standing where she had left him, looking around with his default scowl and arms folded over his chest. "Who did you lose?" she asked.

He turned, seemingly surprised. It only lasted a heartbeat. "Maybe all of 'em," he answered. His voice was gruff as it normally was, but its undertones were distant.

She approached him and stopped at his elbow - gods, she was short - and asked, "How many siblings did you have?"

"Well," he started, "The oldest were the twins. Identical, funny, surprisingly responsible. I probably fought with them the least of any of my six brothers." he remarked. "After them was my oldest sister - like the rest of my four sisters, she was too pretty for the well-being of toms around her." Panthro said, actually scowling in displeasure. "Didn't stop her from having two sons and a daughter."

Felline raised her brows, "What about your other siblings?"

"The twins were the only mature ones." Then he chuckled, "My only younger brother accidently broke my nose while we boxing. I had never thought the kid had it in him to actually hit me hard. 'Guess I deserved it." He was clearly amused with the memory.

Felline was surprised. "And you... find that amusing? That's terrible!"

Panthro snorted. "You obviously never had brothers."

"No! It was just Lepra and I!"

Panthro chuckled and uncrossed his arms, patting her almost too hard on the shoulder. "If you had, you wouldn't have needed Cheetara to teach you hand-to-hand."

Felline scowled, "You forget I was nobility, and it was 'unacceptable' for she-cats to learn how to fight."

"Princess Liena was nobility, and she knew how to wield a sword." he pointed out.

"Princess Liena was also Royalty and twelve years older than her only male sibling." Felline countered.

Their conversation evolved into debating whether or not a Princess from five-generations before was taught how to fight because she wanted to learn, or because it seemed that she would be the next wielder of the Sword of Omens.

And it was enjoyable.

* * *

><p>Technically Felline had to mentally prepare herself for all future birthdays? F*cking twinless twins and my feels - I'm surprised I'm not a little sobbing mess. OH WAIT. I AM. *cries over Fred and George and the overall tragedy that is twinless twins*<p>

Hope you liked it, Anne (even though I really meant to give you something fluffy?), and Happy New Year everyone!


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